


The Cat's Grin

by huntaunt



Category: Mirror World 2 - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:42:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25502305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huntaunt/pseuds/huntaunt
Summary: Don't let those precious moments fool youHappiness is getting you downA rainbow never smiles or blinksIt's just a candy colored frown
Kudos: 1





	1. C1P1 | Motherly Love

**Author's Note:**

> Just something I'm working on.

The morning sounds always brought a smile to Floyd’s face, regardless of the night’s hard work exhausting his body through and through. The busy Manhattan streets of the early hours bustled with activity, paper boys already making their rounds with the freshly printed pages of the Times, no doubt talking about the post-war dreams of men who hadn’t set a foot anywhere near Europe since the Great War... But that was neither here nor there in Floyd’s opinion. He was too young for the draft to have taken him away, but his Father was not nearly as lucky; All the old man would talk about since then was the gaul of the “pansies who stayed behind”... It was charming in a way, certainly one only his Father could pull off.

Floyd shoved those thoughts out of his mind as he pushed his way through the heavy doors of the Cat’s Grin, the brain child of his Father’s that had become a reality after his return from overseas, although with a few unfortunate but neccessary changes from his original plan. For one, the cost of such an establishment had not come from thin air; A close friend of the family had graciously funded the creation of the Cafe, but at a cost. The patron, Elijah “Blue Eyes” MacManus, had come with the plan to create a speakeasy within the Cat’s Grin as a way to distribute his gang’s liquor. The eccentric had funded a secret basement to be constructed that saw many of his fellow gang members come to drink the bootlegged alcohol in the safety of the place. Floyd hadn't minded, the business had attracted a hefty sum of cash for the once poor family, the thoughts of living on the streets again still haunt his dreams now and again.

Walking into the cafe, he was met with the recently awoken form of his mother, making her way downstairs to set up for the morning rush. At least, that is what he assumed until she stopped Floyd in his tracks up the stairway. Her icy glare that she was known for had melted slightly, but the demeanor of the ruthless woman he called mother still stood strong as she delivered some fateful news to Floyd.

"Floyd, darling, your father was found in the streets this morning. It looks as though you will be running the Cat's Grin now, so change into your uniform and come back down immediately." 

Floyd's heart froze in place. Did he hear her right? He must have not, there was no way she could be that heartless... But this was Eva Seigler he was talking about- The woman had been rumored to have offed her cousin years ago, but those were just rumors. Rumors that she hadn't denied per se, but that doesn't change the fact that the death of Father would most definitely have broken that demeanor at least a little bit.

He stuttered for a second, collecting his thoughts before responding to his mother. "What did you say? I must have misheared, but it sounded like you said Father was found in the streets..."

"You heard correctly, now do as I say. Elijah will be coming over to discuss with you the responsibilities your father has left you with." Eva yawned a bit, turning the direction of the Cafe's counter. "I do hope your errands were completed, it will most likely be a busy day for you."

Floyd stood at the steps for a few seconds, still processing everything that was just said. His head pounded with confusion and sadness, but the cold stare of his impatient mother snapped him out of his stupor. He nodded once and went up to his room to change into his work clothes, fearful of the wrath of Mr. MacManus should he not be prepared for him. Looking to the clear blue skies outside his window, he sighed in resignation and exhaustion as he went down to the speakeasy to work, unsure of what was to come.


	2. C1P2 | Witness

To live in the city was always a dream for Chester. The bustling roads, the chaotic people, the cathartic nights after a busy day of living life... Nowadays that kind of thinking was almost funny. The city was nothing but a bunch of assholes and panhandlers, and anyone who said otherwise was most likely an idiot or a liar. To think that city life was something Chester strove for... he'd rather be back on the farm with his dogmatic family than live in this shithole for another day. Granted- he wouldn't be caught dead back home, but it honestly at this point it sounded better to be beaten daily than to eat another handful of garbage from the dumpster behind the cafe. 

The only thing keeping him afloat these days was his music. Each free evening that he could afford, Chester was on the corner with his shoddy acoustic, singing some random song he concocted the night before. Those nights were what kept him sane, his music truly being his only outlet, saying to the world "I'm alive, dammit." When mister Faust first came up to him asking if Chester wanted to perform in the Cat's Grin, it was one of the best things to happen to him in a long time. When it turned out that the Cat's Grin wasn't just a cafe, things only went uphill from there. The extravagant speakeasy that sat hidden within the basement of the place was a sight to see, the walls covered with paintings made by artists that were long gone, booze racks filled with stuff from moonshine to fine aged wine, the effort put into this place was magnificent in Chester's opinion. The quaint piano in the corner with a layer of dust on it sold it for him, however, and he immediately got to work on some music for the establishment.

Granted the new gig was something that gave Chester some hope for the future, it didn't change the fact that he was still homeless and hungry. A couple bucks every week wasn't enough to change that, but it was enough to make his life a bit more decent to live. After setting up shop in the speakeasy he spent a few days to practice in private, since mister Faust was nice enough to loan a side room to do so. The little room basically became his home for those few days, only leaving if mister Faust told him to for his own sake. His first night on the stage was met with plenty of praise from mister Faust, and was rewarded with a bottle of shine for his good work! Life was... good, for now.

After a few weeks of work, Chester still found himself behind the cafe proper at night, living off the fat of the land so to speak. Typically he would find himself back in his "nest" way past midnight, but tonight mister Faust had let him go early for some reason. Something about "preperations" needing to be made or whatever. It didn't matter much since he would still be paid at the end of the week, so Chester decided to get a nap in for tomorrow. Before he could crash however, he heard a heated argument from the entrance of the alleyway.

"Alrighty Seigler, I'm gonna ask ya again- where t' fuck is it?" Said one of the two men cornering the third.

"I don't know what you are talking about, I told MacManus that I was cooperating-" Before he could finish, the third was socked in the gut by the guy who hadn't said anything yet, sending the older man to his knees.

"Y'know t'at's bullshit, German. Blue Eyes knows yer holdin' somet'ing back; It's prolly wiser t' cough it up before he get's here."

The older man was hacking for a good minute before he responded, his arms hugging where he was punched. "Mein Gott... I didn't keep... anything, I swear it... Please...-" The bruiser of the two kicked him in the side, sending Seigler to the ground on his side.

"T'at's enough you two-"

Immediately the two bruisers backed away from the old man, the new guy stepping into the alleyway and right up to him. He knelt down and whispered something to Seigler before standing again. "I'm sorry Faust, this ain't personal." The man drew a golden engraved revolver and pointed it at mister Faust on the ground. "Actually, it kinda is. I'll keep yer bed warm for ya, don't worry 'bout it-"

A shot rang out, and Chester stayed still for the remainder of the night.


End file.
